Ouija
by Kenmion
Summary: Don't wake sleeping ghosts. And don't bully little girls. Not on Poindexter's watch. And if you do: Do not do it in a stormy autmn night near midnight in an abandoned house, which is renowned to be haunted. And please, please: Let your Ouija board at home.
1. Waking sleeping ghosts

**Hello to you, whoever you are. Thank you for checking out my little fic. This is my second attempt of writing a fanfiction and I hope, you like it. I've recently found out, that there are shockingly few horror fics of Danny Phantom, a franchice filled with ghosts. So I thought: Why not posting a standard haunted house/Teen horror fic? Although there will be not that much Horror in the first chapter. Please review, if you have the time. Thanks.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom. Butch Hartman does (and probably Nickelodeon, but Butch is the one that counts). The OCs (a necessary evil, sorry) and setting are ficticious and not based on actual places or people.  
**

* * *

Dani looked at the house that rose into the night sky. The dark wood, it was made of, made it seem to disappear in the late dusk. The old Villa was a mile away from the next small town and had been empty for the last fifty-six years. Some man had killed his wife and himself. Extended suicide. The villagers whispered, that the old house was haunted, but yet Dani hadn't sensed any ghost nearby. Perfect. Not that she would have minded to crash at someghost's place. Most of them were quite hospitable, as long as one was nice and didn't overstay one's welcome. One or two days was fine by the most ghosts. They loved to talk about the lives, they once had. Dani couldn't count the life stories she had heard in her barely one year of existing. Some were boring, but she listened anyway, some were tragic, some were intriguing, and some were just disgusting. She shuddered at the thought of what Skulker had told her about his lifetime. The urge to skin her "cousin" suddenly seemed harmless. He had captured her and had intended to bring her to _him_. But she had managed to bring the tin-head to talk about his past, and as ghosts are, it gave her enough time, to free herself and make a run.

Anyway. Here she was, at the left-to-rot-not-yet-haunted house. The lawn had grown wild, Undergrowth would have the fun of his li- death and the pond seemed to have fulfilled its metamorphosis into a swamp, from what Dani could tell. She pushed the gate in the rotting fence. With a squeak, it opened. Dani's human half tensed a little, while her ghost half delighted. Yes, she could totally understand, why the villagers thought, this place was haunted.

Dani smirked. "Well, **now** it is a haunted house." She closed the gate and walked over the graveled path, now overgrown with weeds. As she reached the stairs to the door, she disappeared.

At least, it would seem that way for any witness observing the scene. In reality, she just had dropped visibility and tangibility in favor for their counterparts. Old doors shouldn't be closed and opened too frequently. Also, who knew what was behind the giant black doors.

Untouched and unseen by the world, she stepped inside her temporary home. Quickly, she strode through the whole house to find nothing unusual or dangerous. And no bigger living being than a rat, what a relieve.

Luckily, just two windows were broken and neither of them were in the living room, where the chimney was. That meant a whole night of warmth and comfort. Maybe two or three, if her pursuers would fall for the false tracks she had laid out.

She unstrapped her worn-out backpack and searched it for the bedroll and the marshmallows she had "borrowed" at a general store. she placed the bedroll five feet in front of the chimney and opened the marshmallow-bag. Two marshmallows immediately found their way into her empty stomach.

"Mhh. I should have gone for the bread instead." She sighed. Again, the child in her had made an inadequate decision: Candy before survival. Stupid. She knew the rules, and yet she had made such a mistake. But there was no time for moping to herself. If she just had those sugary, fluffy, delicious… wait. What did she need to do again? "Grr!" she scuffed her red hat. "Right. Firewood."

White rings appeared at her midsection and parted towards her head and her feet. Where they passed, they replaced the little hobo's body and shabby clothes with the body of her ghostly counterpart and a black and white two-piece suit. Unwashed, black hair became (still unwashed) white hair and baby-blue eyes turned acid-green.

Then, nearly quicker as the human eye could follow, the ghost flew though the wall and disappeared in the dark forest around the old villa.

Ten minutes later, Dani, back in her human form, ignited a pile of wood and dry leaves in the old chimney. Slowly, the warmth from the fire crept into the house and into Dani's body. She sighed in pleasure, as the heat of the fire brushed her face and outstretched hands.

After minutes of just enjoying the heat, Dani fumbled for the bag of marshmallows and a wooden stick, she had found. Two at one time, she baked the sweets over the fire and ate them as soon as they were ready. Finally, the bag was empty.

Sated, warm and tired, she crouched into her sleeping bag and let her dreams carry her away.

 _So, where do I start?_

 ** _At the beginning, I'd suggest._**

 _Right, right. The beginning. Well, it started last Thursday, when Janette had the stupid idea to spend the night from Friday to Saturday in the haunted manor near town. The Wood Manor. You've heard of it, yes? You've heard of John Wood? That crazy guy, who murdered his entire family and himself back in the early fifties? Some say, his spirit still roams the house and the surrounding land. Of course, I'd never bought that story before. I mean, ghosts! Who in their right mind would believe, they'd actually exist._

 ** _But now, you do._**

 _I don't believe it, Mister. I know it. I know it for sure. I wouldn't be here, if they didn't. Right? Right. Where was I? Ah, Janette. She had that stupid idea. An adventure. A night to never be forgotten. I personally would have waited for Halloween for something like that, but anyway. So Thursday, she had this idea, that we'd sneak into the old manor on Friday night and stay there until Saturday morning. I would have gladly refused. There are more fun things to do on Fridays than spending them in an old house._

 _"_ _What?", she had teased me. "Afraid of old Johnny? Didn't know, you were a sissy, Rick."_

 _What a bitch, I thought. Of course, I was not afraid. My friend, Bill wasn't neither. So we both agreed to join her "adventure" in the haunted manor. How fucking stupid we were._

 ** _What happened?_**

 _Well, on Friday I told my parents, that I would spend the night at Bill's place. That we'd watch some movies and stuff. I don't know how Bill sneaked out, but I'm sure he'd told his parents something similar. We met Janette at ten pm at the gate to Wood Manor. Her friend, Rachel, had accompanied her. That was the moment I thought, the whole trip was worth it. You see, Rachel is kinda cute and well…_

 ** _Go on._**

 _Anyway, we entered the property all together. The gate was old and rusty and it screeched, as we opened it. The path to the house was overgrown with wilderness. But what can you expect? For what we knew, we were the first people walking that path in decades. The first to enter the manor since our parents had been our age. It was, kinda, tremendous to imagine this. We didn't see the smoke coming from the chimney back then. Well, as you can imagine by now, our awe was short lived. After we've busted the door, we found a sleeping hobo inside._

 ** _A hobo?_**

 _Yes, a little girl smelling like garbage and shit. Probably, a fucking junkie._

 ** _How did she look like?_**

 _What? You missing one, Sir?_

 ** _Maybe._**

 _Well, she had black and unkempt hair. Unkempt is the best word to describe her in general. And, lets see… Blue eyes, blue worn shirt and a red hat and shorts. The sleeping bag she was sleeping in and bag pack besides her on the other hand seemed new. She'd probably stolen it. You now her?_

 ** _No._**

 _Figures._

 ** _What did you do with her?_**

 _Well, first we were angry. It should have been our moment. Our adventure. And because of this stupid runaway, we suddenly weren't the first anymore. We felt like the Russians would have set foot on the moon before Neill. She wasn't invited, you see? So, we told her to leave._

Dani woke up rather unpleasant. Something hit her shin and a voice, just as gentle, ordered her to stand up. Within seconds, she managed to stumble out of her sleeping bag and orientate herself in the room. The fire still burned in the chimney. Illuminated by the light of the dancing flames, there were four faces staring down at her. Teenagers, sixteen. Seventeen at most. The two boys looked angry, one of the girls grinned in evil mischief. Yes, they were out for giving her trouble. The last member of the quartet looked more civil and quite uncomfortable with the situation. Clearly, she had picked the wrong friends.

"Ugh, she stinks," the first girl grinned and held her nose with index finger and thump closed. Dani crossed her arm in front of her chest. She felt the urge to hit her. The boy to her left, instead, hit Dani. "You heard her. You smell like shit. And shit you are." The second boy grinned. Dani gritted her teeth while her cheek started to swell. "Leave. Me. Alone.", she pressed out. Internally, she cursed. The situation was about to get out of hand. Should she pull out her knife? It was in her pocket. Maybe, she could scare those teens o-

The fist connected with her skull and the lights went out.

Pain took her out of the black and back into reality. The pain of a shoe crushing into her ribs. The pain repeated and tears blurred her face.

"Leave her!"

A new voice. Probably, the second girl.

"But Rachel, she's-"

"She's a kid. Damn it Bill," the voice accused her attacker. "She's a junkie, Rachel. She probably is too high to feel anything," the second boy defended his friend. Oh, what'd Dani give, would he be right about that. "I said STOP IT!", the girl screamed. The rhythm of shoe meeting ribs stopped. "Rachel, let the boys have their fun," the first girl giggled. "No! That is assault. Are you all crazy? That isn't some light fun."

"But-"

"No. Just no. Let her leave." A common sight filled the room, while Dani tried to fight back the tears blurring her eyes. She wouldn't cry, she wouldn't sob. "Fine." A hand grabbed her at the collar and raised her to her feet. "You heard her. You can leave," the not-Bill boy hissed, "So, LEAVE!"

His last words were accompanied by a hard push into the vague direction of the room's exit. Unfortunately, this path lead over the first girl's outstretched foot. If she could use her ghost powers right now, it wouldn't have been a problem. But in the need of hiding her true nature, there was no way she could do that. Thus, she stumbled over the foot and fell to the ground again. Pain rose from her ribcage into the tips of her hair. "Shit!" She needed to get out. Unless she wanted, that a bunch of pimpled teens beat and kicked her to death in order to impress the other sex.

Just to prove her point, the new shiny shoes of just-another-overly-expensive -show-off-branch pierced her side. Followed by a "What, were you're going, bitch!"

Quickly, Dani got back on her feet, as she heard both boys approaching her. Never in her life, the idea to get invisible and pull out the knife, not only to threaten but to kill, was that tempting. But she wasn't Vlad. She wasn't built after his template. She was Dani. Created out of and meant to resemble Danny Phantom. A hero, through and through. How many punches did he have to endure in school? And never would he use his powers to harm his bullies, although Sidney always insist, he would. Never. And so, she wouldn't, too.

Resistance was a no-go. So escape was the only option. As quick as her feet could carry her, she stumbled towards the villa's entrance hall.

 ** _You told her to leave? How convincing._**

 _Ough, well. We… we maybe… were a little… harsh while bidding her out?_

 ** _I'm not here to judge. Just to learn the truth of this unfortunate event. I mean; a haunted house which is actually haunted. I mean, wow._**

 _It… it isn't haunted, Sir._

 ** _No?_**

 _No, Sir. But let me continue._

 ** _As you wish._**

 _When that vagrant girl left the building, she left it through the door._

 ** _As usual people would do._**

 _Er… no. No, I mean: She left_ through _the door. She didn't open it._

 ** _…_**

 _Creepy, huh?_

 ** _You are sure about that?_**

 _First, I didn't recognize it at all. Bill didn't, either. Back then, it was just strange, that we didn't hear her open the door or closing it. You see, she left in… er, a hurry and I and Bill wanted to follow her to make sure, that she really left the house. When we entered the hall, she already was outside the house. We opened the door and… watched her leaving the property on the same way, we entered. You see? She should have opened the door and closed the door in a hurry. We should have heard it. But there was nothing._

 ** _You are_** **absolutely** ** _sure, she left_** **through** ** _the door, Rick? She didn't climb through a window or didn't shut the door gently? She stepped literally_** **through** ** _the door?_**

 _Y-yes. I know, it sounds strange, but- well, it will make sense, eventually._

Too late, Dani realized her mistake. She just had switched into intangibility, when she left through the door. She was pretty sure, the boys didn't see her stepping through the solid wood. At least the curses and swear words they shot her while she ran down the old overgrown path, back to the iron gate, were indicating that they didn't see it. But if they closely thought about it, they would notice the missing sound of a shutting door. At the gate, she remembered to not make the same mistake twice.

As she stumbled through the dark forest, she finally let her tears flow. And why not? Her nose was bleeding, at least one rib seamed to be broken and she had been insulted with every swear word known by teens this side of the Pacific. Now, she would need to travel to Japan or China to hear new ones.

Now, with the sun long gone and the tears blurred eyes, it was hard to see. Once or twice, she actually stumbled into a tree. However, the blue mist escaping her mouth was unmissable. She sighed and tried to muffle her sobs and dry her eyes with the sleeve of her blue shirt jacket. Unlike her 'cousin' she didn't switch into defense stand. Maybe, the ghost was friendly, aka not in Vlad's employment.

A grey, half translucent figure, slightly glowing in the dark, hovered over the forest floor. The ghost was human, male, with black hair and round spectacles. He looked like out of an old high school movie, back when color TV was science fiction. Everything on him, from clothes to statue, screamed 'nerd'. In his hand he held the only thing, that wasn't black white or grey. A green book.

"What're you doing with my diary, Sid?", Dani asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. Admittedly, she was an emotional wrack right now. But that didn't mean, she should burden a friend with her problems.

"I- er, you left it at my place, when you last time visited. Er, here." Sidney Poindexter held Dani's diary in front of the half ghost. "A-and don't worry, I didn't read it." Yes, he did. And he blushed over the obvious lie. His cheeks turned even greyer. Dani didn't recognize.

"Thanks," Dani said flatly and took the book. She didn't have any energy left to wonder, how he had found her or to rant about how he shouldn't snoop around in her private stuff. Bad mistake, because that were her main occupations in their encounter. That, and hanging out and reading superhero comics together. Apparently, he had a whole collection of those.

"Dani? Are you ok?", Sidney asked, a worried tone in his voice, that unnerved the girl.

She looked away and clenched her diary against her chest. "Peachy."

"That's not true. Dani, what's the matter?"

"Nothing. Thanks for the book. Bye," Dani said as composed as possible and started to walk of. A cold hand on her shoulder stopped her. She shook it off rather violently.

"Dani…"

"Don't touch me, four-eyes!", the girl screamed out and continued on her track, away from the ghost. "And for how do I feel right now and why; You'll read it in my diary eventually, I guess. Next time 'I forget it'."

That hurt. Sidney stared at the back of Dani's retreating figure, grey flames of anger behind his glasses.

There was just one cause that could affect people in such a matter, that they hurt their friends just to be left alone. Alone with their pain. Grey flaming eyes followed the track the halfa had been coming from, footsteps and occasional droplets of blood on the fallen autumn leaves.

There was only one possible cause.

Poindexter's grey eyes, cold as steal and hot as boiling oil at the same time, settled onto an old house, hidden behind the trees.

Only one cause: Bullies!


	2. ghost stories

**(A/N) Hello all of you (well, you three). Sorry for the late update. And thank you for your interest in my story. In this chapter, there will be ghost stories (Captain Obvious, I know) and... well, Ouija.. huuuuu!**

 **Disclaimer: All OC names are randomly pickked and not based on real persons. Any similarity is sheer coinsidence. I don't own Danny Phantom. Unfortunately it seems, Butch Hartman doesn't either. Nickelodeon does. Buy it back, Butch!**

Sleep was avoiding her. It wasn't the fact, that she had left her sleeping bag in that damn house with those damn teens. It wasn't the fact, that she had lost the roof over her head to them. Heck, it even wasn't the fact, that mother nature, in all her crappiness, had decided to let it storm and rain all of the sudden.

No. It was the fact, how crappy she herself had been to Sidney. They had been friends for two months now. Heck, she knew him for half her life.!

And just because of the stupid teens bullying her, she had snapped out at him and called him names. It wasn't right and her bad conscious kept her wake. Tomorrow, she would apologize to him. Restless, Dani rolled around in her new temporary 'house', the inside of an abandoned fox den she had phased into to escape the storm outside.

Something was still nagging at her. Something about Sidney Poindexter she had forgotten. Something essential, she should remember. Well, it was probably nothing.

The grey figure approached the old house. It didn't bother with the gate and just flew through. It didn't bother with the overgrown path and just flew across the wilderness that used to be a lawn half a decade ago. It didn't bother with the houses walls. To the intruder, they were nonexistent. But for its prey, they would be a death trap. As soon, as the grey figure had transcended the wall, it faded out of the visual spectrum. Voices echoed through the house.

"So, what about the hobo's stuff?", asked a boy with blonde hair.

"Throw it out the house, just like her," came the bored answer from a girl with long red hair. Absently, she surveyed her red painted fingernails for any flaws. Of course, there weren't any.

"Or," a brown-haired boy chuckled, "We could fuel the fire with them. Heh?"

"Are you crazy?!", a girl with silk like black hair scolded the chuckling teen.

"Why not?", he responded. "I'm perfectly sure, it will burn well. Don't ya think, Rachel?"

"Rachel is right, you know?", interfered the red-head still in a bored tone. "You'd probably burn the whole house by accident, moron."

"Hey!"

"Janette is right, Bill. Not the "Moron-Part" of course," the blonde boy argued. "I'm still surprised, that this junkie didn't burn the house, before we got here."

But," A smirk grew on the blonde's face. "Why don't we burn the stuff outside? Near the pond. A little campfire?"

The brown-haired boy, Bill cracked a smile at his friend's suggestion. "That could work. Girls, Rick and I will be right back."

"What? No!", the black-haired girl voiced her resentment. She looked to Janette with pleading eyes. The read-head sighed.

"Guys, why don't you do that after the ghost story?"

The guys' heads piped up from Dani's stuff and turned around. "Ghost story? Yeah. I got one.", the blonde guy, Rick, spoke up.

The teens all gathered around in a circle in front of the chimney. Rick seated himself with the fire in his back. This way, his body could cast a long shadow over the floor and the wall. In addition, he used a flashlight to enlighten his face in a 'scary' kind of way.

"So, the story I'm about to tell is called." He paused for the tension to build. "The black rose."

 _The black rose?_

 ** _Yeah. It was the only story, that came to my mind._**

 _I've never heard of it. What is it about?_

 ** _Well…_**

"There once was a mother, who had three daughters. They were all kind girls, so the mother wanted to give them a gift. So, she went into a florist shop to buy them each a rose."

"What a nasty gift. Who in their right mind buys their kids vegetable?"

"Shut up, Bill," Rick remarked, "That's the story. And besides, girls love flowers."

Janette snorted amused.

"Anyway. She went into the shop, to buy them each a red rose. The shop owner was an old lady, who simply black, but jet black. It was so beautiful, that she bought it instead of the third red rose. The florist warned her, that the black rose would come at a high price. But since it didn't cost more than the other two roses, the mother ignored the old lady's words.

When she came home, she gave the roses to each her daughters. The black rose, she gave to her first child. Time passed, and the roses slowly began to wilt. One morning, they found the first daughter murdered in her bed. Her throat had been slit open and the blood was all over the place. Even on the black rose, who looked as beautiful as it has been on the first day. Fascinated by its beauty, the second daughter stole the rose out of her dead sister's room."

Rachel's face had turned pale and even Bill seemed to be intrigued by the story. Only Janette sat there with her arms crossed and a face that nearly screamed 'boring!'. Rick shrugged and continued.

"Weeks passed, and the black rose began to wilt. 'Tomorrow', the second daughter said to the rose, 'Tomorrow I have to dump you'. Tomorrow came, but the black rose wasn't dumped. Instead, the second daughter was dead. And the rose… was beautiful like on the first day."

Rachel gulped. Janette looked even more bored than before. "Uhh, Scaary," she deadpanned.

"Shht," Bill told her to be quiet. "I want to know, how it ends."

Rick coughed to get the attention back. "Weeks passed. One day, the third daughter came to the mother and told her, that the black rose in her room had begun to wilt. The mother was shocked. 'You have the rose?', she asked. 'Yes. But it isn't as pretty anymore. I'm going to dump it tomorrow.' And with that said, she went into her room, for it was already night."

"Let me guess," Bill piped in and destroyed the tension completely. "The morning came and the daughter was dead."

"No," Rick responded with annoyance in his voice. "can I continue, please?"

"Sure."

"When the girl finally was asleep, a shadowy figure entered the room. The light from the waning moon, that shone through the window illuminated a blade in the figures hand. Slowly, the shadow walked towards the head end of the bed. As It reached the girl, the shadow waited. It was midnight, when an arm with a knife… came out of the black rose and aimed for the sleeping girls throat. In a blink of an eye, the arm was severed from the rose by the shadow's blade. The shadow had been the mother, who had been wary of the rose's nature. She turned on the light and woke up the daughter. For seconds the rose's severed arm wiggled on the floor, until the black rose wilted to dust.

The next morning, the mother contacted the police. She was sure, that the florist was to blame for the murders of her children. When the police arrived at the florist shop, the florist raised her arm in surrender. Because she had only one left."

"No," Rachel pressed out. She was pale as snow.

"Wow," Bill exclaimed and stared at nothing in particular.

"Not half bad," Janette nodded.

 ** _Mediocre._**

 _What?_

 ** _Your story. Your "ghost story". I've heard better. I can tell you some, if you want._**

 _I… no. I've got enough from ghosts for my whole life._

 ** _(grins) Well, since you landed here, I guess you're right._**

 _You are sure, you are psychiatrist?_

 ** _Am I?_**

 _*sigh* Well, what happened to me, is way scarier._

 ** _Ah, your trauma. Good, good. We make process._**

"I, er… I have… also a ghost story," Rachel cheeped insecure. With a smile, Rick handed her the flashlight. His heard accelerated, when their fingers touched. Rachel smiled shyly and began to tell her tale.

"This is a story, that really happened. I've found it on the internet," Rachel began, but was interrupted by the laugher of Bill.

" 'A story that really happened. Found it on the internet!' ", he mocked her.

"Shut up, Bill," scolded Rick. Rachel smiled thankful, and Rick's heart jumped. He hoped it was dark enough, so that the heat that crept into his cheeks couldn't be seen by the others.

"I found it on a site for ghost stories. The author was… Oh, I forgot."

The other teens blinked. "You forgot?", they asked.

"It-it is not important to the story. The story takes place decades ago, when old John still lived here with his family. Far away in a town called… Empty Park!"

A lightning illuminated the room through the window and the thunder growled over the house. Rick caught himself at wincing.

"In the town of Empty Park, there was a high school called Casper. And in this school, there was a nerd so geeky, that everyone bullied him. From the jocks to the nerds, girls and boys alike. Even teachers, so has been told."

"Deserved it," Rick and Bill piped like as out of one mouth and grinned. The temperature in the room sank. Even Rick's back shivered. Strange, since he still sat with his back turned towards the fire. But the heat somehow didn't reach him anymore.

 ** _And you didn't wonder, why?_**

 _Well, yes sure. But who in their right mind would think of ghosts, heh?_

 ** _Well, you. From now on._**

 _Right…_

"The boy's name was Sidney Poindexter and he was the loneliest boy in the world. He had no friends. Of course not. Everyone was bullying him. It became so bad, that it became a ritual among the students. If you came onto the school, you were only socially accepted, if you had bullied him at least once. You wanted to attend a sports club? Therefore, you needed a special prank, pulled at his costs. He had seen so many toilets and dumpsters from the inside, that-"

"Rachel?", Janette interrupted. "We get it: he was bullied."

"Oh, Ok. Well, one fateful Friday, he got stuffed into his locker. This wasn't the first time, that it happened. But it was the last. The bully had intended to leave Poindexter in the locker over the weekend to impress a cheerleader. Unfortunately, it was winter and during the next week, a blizzard rushed over the town: School was out. When the school started the following week, students smelled an awful smell coming out of Poindexter's locker. They opened it and found Poindexter's dead body in it. He had died of thirst."

"I call bullshit," Bill spoke up.

"I've done my research. There is, indeed, a police file concerning the death of a student, who died in his locker. The file is from the fifties. No bullshit at all," Rachel defended her story.

"Fine," Bill resigned. "But where is the 'ghost' in your ghost story?"

"Well, it is said, that till this day the tormented soul of Sidney Poindexter haunts his locker, waiting to take the fight to the bullies and to protect the geeks and nerds, who can't defend themselves."

"Huuuuu, scaaaary," Bill scoffed.

"Shut up, Bill. I liked Rachel's story," Rick scolded his friend. Bill's Face turned sour.

"Phe! You just like her tits."

A second passed in complete silence. The cold in the room was tangible. All of the sudden one could hear the sound of boiling water exiting a teapot and Rick's and Rachel's faces started to glow in a crimson tone, that lightened up the dark room (But just in the Anime-version). With a battle cry, Rick jumped at the brown-haired boy, fists first. Rolling and screaming, the boys punched at each other.

Janette looked at them amused and nudged her black-haired friend with an elbow. "Well, now look at that; two boys fighting over you." Rachel's face turned even redder. Janette wasn't sure, but it seemed, like Rachel's face indeed illuminated the room in a red color. Janette sighed. "Ok, ok. I make them stop. Hey guys!" two heads turned towards her. "Enough with the ghost stories. It's time to contact a real ghost." The boys looked at her warily. "A-A read ghost?", the spoke at once.

"Yup. I've got this.", Janette pulled a Ouija board out of her purse. "Unless you are too scared." Immediately, the boys stood, their fight nothing but forgotten. "I'm not scared," they claimed.

"Then let's gather around the table and make contact with… the dead."

 ** _Wow._**

 _What?_

 ** _You realize, that you just did everything in the book of "do not do this in a horror story" , except for splitting up?_**

 _Er… well…_

 ** _Don't tell me that- ?_**

 _Maybe?_

 ** _*sigh*_**

 _We didn't know, this shit was true, OK?! We did not know, that we_ were _in a "horror story"!_

 ** _Alright, young man. Calm down. We are not trough right now. Please, go on._**

 _(glares daggers) Fine. Well, it took some minutes for us, to…_

It took some minutes for them, to arrange the table and seats in front of the Chimney. They were gathered around a round table. In the middle the spirit board.

"Now, everybody places one finger on the planchette," Janette instructed. Thus, they did.

"I'll do the talking. Is there any ghost here?"

They moved the planchette in random circles, but it didn't take long, until the little piece of wood landed on…

/Yes/

"Er, Hello?"

/Hello/

"Are you the ghost of John Wood?" the planchette circled over the board….

/No/

 _Back then, I was sure, it would say yes, you know?_

 ** _Reasonable._**

"No? Who are you then?" Again, the planchette circled around the board and stopped at various letters.

/G/

/U/ "Gustav?"

/E/

/S/ the planchette did one circle and landed on the /S/ a second time.

"Guess?" Janette was perplexed.

"I think, the ghost wants you to guess its name."

They all jumped, as the planchette under their fingers slid to the /Yes/.

"Ok, who of you wagers did that?", Janette asked angrily. Both boys shook their heads. Rachel just stared at the board, shock written on her face.

"Well. Is your name 'Rumpelstiltskin'?

/No/

Janette shrugged. "Worth a try. Are you one of the people, that died here?"

/No/

"Why are you here, then?" Again, the planchette slid over the board in circles, just pausing shortly to mark some letters. Finally, it came to a rest on the /U/

 ** _So, what did the ghost say?_**

 _For you. That was, what he said._

 ** _For me?_**

 _No, for us._

"For me?", Janette looked slightly unnerved. Again, the planchette moved. As if it was alive under their fingers.

/ALL OF YOU JANETTE/

"Ok. Whoever of you two manipulates the board, stop it!" The boys just looked at her and blinked.

/SAY MY NAME/

"I- I don't know your name!", Janette screamed.

/I DIED IN A NARROW PLACE/

The teen grew silent. And the planchette moved over the table, full of live, while the human fingers on it were limp and devoid of all life.

/SAY MY NAME/

"Sidney." Rachel gulped, but continued. "Sidney Poindexter."

/Yes/


	3. So, you sow the wind

**(A/N) Hi. Me again. Why I update so quickly, you ask? Well… Because I should do stuff for the university and learn for my exams. But... I just ended up writing this. Hehe.** ** **Also, it is a comparably short chapter.** Thank you, Fire Koi, for your review. Of course, I will update (Like now, see?). In this chapter, Poindexter has an educative talk with his new friends.  
**

* * *

Three pairs of burning eyes glared at the girl with black hair.

"What?"

"Not funny, Rachel." The faces belonging to the eyes stated.

"What do you mean?"

"Sidney Poindexter is your scare figure. And now 'he is here'. And on top 'coming for us'. Let me guess: Because we 'bullied the hobo'?", Janette scoffed.

/Yes/

"Funny, Rachel, really funny." Even Rick wasn't on her side anymore. But his attitude was less angry and more anxious. Nervously, he wriggled about on his chair. Bill on the other hand glared daggers at her. Finally, he opened his mouth. What came out of it wasn't friendly. "Why is she even here? She destroys the mood."

"Alright, calm down, anyone," Janette soothed him. "Rachel?"

"Y-Yes?"

"You can stay here, but you don't touch the board or the planchette again, understood?"

"Er… yes." The three other teens nodded. "Fine, now that this is settled, let's start again, shall we?" The boys nodded. Rachel just watched, still pale.

"Is there any ghost here?", Janette began anew. The planchette slid over the board.

/Yes/

And before they could say hello, the planchette slid to the letters

/S/

/T/

/I/

/L/ and circled once, only to land on the

/L/ again.

Rick gulped audible. "So, it wasn't a prank?", he asked. Slowly, the planchette slid towards the /No/, while Janette and Bill obviously tired to alter its path. They just wouldn't accept the inevitable. But the predetermined path couldn't be altered. The planchette did never stir left or right, it just kept going. It didn't even get slowed down. When it reached its target, both glared at Rick. "What?"

"Get your finger off the planchette," they growled. Rick raised his hands in surrender. "Fine. But it won't change anything." Live came into the small wooden thing and it slid around the board. It seemed, that it did it on its own. As if the two fingers on top weren't necessary at all.

 _When I read the message, I felt my blood freezing in my veins._

 _ **Why?**_

 _Well, I said me taking my hands from the planchette wouldn't change anything._

 _ **Uh, yes?**_

 _The ghost responded with..._

/TRUE/

Silence fell upon the table. All eyes rested on the /E/. True. Janette shivered. Either Bill was the prankster all along, or… no! That couldn't be! It had to be a prank. Slowly it dawned her: They all were into this! They all tried to prank her! A conspiracy against her. The red-head's eyes narrowed into slits. "You think, that's funny?", she glared at the assembled classmates. "You think, it would be hilarious to prank me?"

"Wh-Who exactly?"

"ALL OF YOU!"

A lightning from the window illuminated her hateful face and the following thunder that rolled over the house gave her outcry vigor.

"Janette, chill," Bill started, but gulped, as her fiery eyes now rested on him solely. "We-We didn't make this up. We are just as scared as you."

Janette laughed hysterically. "As if I was scared!", she spat. "You didn't scare me! Nobody does! I'm not afraid of your stupid prank!" Her voice pitched up with every word. "I ain't afraid of no ghost!"

Bill chuckled nervously. Then he started singing: "If something's strange in you neigborhoo-" His voice died off as he got cooked by the lightning coming out Janette's eyes. Slowly, he started to shrink into his chair. "Hands. Of. The board," Janette ordered, and he complied willingly (and if only, to save his life). Now, it was only Janette's finger on the planchette. A single, trembling finger.

"Uhh, Janette?"

"What?!", the red-head barked. Rachel winced.

"I- I don't think, it works that way, you know?", Rachel continued, her voice nearly inaudible over the rain and storm outside.

 _Well, it still_ did _work, actually._

 ** _…_**

"It never worked, because you were manipulating it!", Janette opposed. Her body was trembling, the eyes wild with fright. The others were nothing better, but slightly distracted by Janette's inability to accept the truth. There **was** a ghost among them. And it had come for them.

"Ghost," Rachel started. Her eyes darting from face to face, nervously. The boys, despite being pale as death himself, looked her in the eyes and nodded for her to go on. The other girl did not acknowledge her at all and just stared at her finger on the Ouija planchette. One finger. She was alone. Only her movement would decide the answer. Only hers. And she wouldn't move.

"Ghost," Rachel restarted, "Tell us: What do you want?"

The three other teens watched, as Janette's finger moved with the planchette towards the /A/. Meanwhile, Janette watched in horror, as the planchette moved with her finger towards the /A/. No, no that couldn't be true! It should be her finger moving that damn wooden piece of shit. No, no!

"No!", Janette grasped the little wooden planchette and threw it with all her strength. It halted mid-air, before it would have hit Rachel in the face. There it stayed for a second before, it was placed back onto the board by a invisible hand. The teens looked in shock, as the planchette started to move again. This time, without a finger guiding it.

 _Who am I kidding? No finger ever guided this wood out of hell. Not a human finger, at least._

Slowly, the planchette slid over the Ouija board, as if it would enjoy the unbelieving stares it received. Letter for letter, the message fell into place.

/YOU ARE KINDA STUBBORN ARENT YOU/

"It's not real! It can't be real!", shrieked Janette, tearing at her red hair.

/QED/

Rachel got her footing back first.

"What d-do you want from us, P-Poindexter?", she asked, the last syllable in a high-pitched tone.

"An apology," came the answer out of nowhere. Rick's eyes grew wide. "H-How?", he stuttered.

"Apologize for your sins!" The ghost's voice outshouted the storm and thunder outside with ease. Bill fell onto his knees. "Forgive us!", he cried, while Janette continued her chant of "It's not real. It can't be real." Rick was frozen in fear. He couldn't move, he couldn't talk. Rachel had to play medium for the disturbed group. "Whatever we have done to anger you, we are deeply sorry and beg for your forgiveness."

"You have to apologize to Dani, not me!"

"Who? Do you mean that fucking hobo?" The question had spurted out from Rick's mouth without thinking. As soon as the words had left his mouth, he clutched it shut with his hands and hoped, the specter hadn't heard them. The temperature dropped significantly. Who was he kidding? Of cause, he had heard them. Invisible eyes burned themselves into his very soul. "Yes. The 'hobo'." The word hobo was said in a disgusted tone. "But for your health, it would have been better to refer to her as Dani. Or the girl. Or really anything except 'fucking hobo'." Rick gulped.

"I- I told you to leave her alone," Rachel stuttered. "Rachel…", the other tried to shut her up. "No! Y-you kicked her, not me! It's your fault!" Accusingly, she pointed a finger at her classmates. "Shut up, Rachel." The other kids' tone was urgent. "So… you defended her in front of your friends?", came the voice from the off. A shy nod from the black-haired girl was the answer.

 _ **So… she sold you up the river?**_

 _Well technically, yes. But if anybody else would have been in her position… I certainly would have done the same._

 _ **What a true friendship, isn't it? Backstabbing one's friends just to breathe another day.**_

 _You weren't in her position. Stop judging her!_

 _ **So, you**_ **still** _ **loving her?**_

 _Wha-? Uhm, Nooo._

 _ **Relax, young friend. I know what love can make with you. You know, there was this girl back when I was-**_

 _Can I continue with my story?_

 _ **Oh, of course. I just… got carried away.**_

 _Thank you. Where was I? Oh, right. The ghost, after learning, that Rachel didn't bully the hobo, but instead actually helped her, grew fond of Rachel. We others hadn't that much luck..._

"You helped Dani?" Again, Rachel nodded. "And you didn't bully her?" Rachel shook her head. "But the others did bully her?" Said others (minus Janette, who just continued her psychotic chant) shook their heads rapidly and small pleas were directed to their friend. After a moment of insecurity, Rachel nodded her head. The jury had plead guilty and the judge spoke the verdict. "Well, thank you, Rachel. Thank you for your honesty. Tonight, you shall receive no harm. For your friends on the other hand…"

"W-What is with us?"

"I'd like to play a game with you." Bill stiffened. He had heard that phrase way to often. In his favorite horror franchise, it had become the best-known quote of all. Whatever would follow now; it wouldn't be fun. "Wh- what game?", Rick asked anxiously. He also had seen the movies. But how did a ghost, who died in the fifties, know about them?

"Oh, it is a kindergarten game. You know it, you love it. Hide and seek."

Rick and Bill exhaled, as the tension left them. Hide and seek. Just good old hide and seek. "And kill."

"What?!", all three teens, who still were mental present, shrieked.

"Rick, Bill, Janette? You're gonna hide. Rachel and I seek. If we find you, I'll kill you. The rules are fairly easy, you see? Rachel will…"

"…count to one hundred," Rachel continued. Her brown eyes have gotten grey. "After that, the time runs. Two minutes. Who I find in this amount of time, will die like I did. Who can hide until the time is up, wins and can go home. If you'd rather try to apologize by Dani, you know, where the door is." A lightning struck with a bursting thunder. Through the window, the teens could see a burning tree, whose flames were quickly smothered by the storm. Instead, the tree fell. Nobody moved. Rachel sighed. "Well, it seems like none of you have actual manners. Hide and seek, it is." The orange flames in the chimney died out. For a brief moment, the room was dark. Then, the Ouija board caught fire. The fire filled the room with green, ghostly light. All but Rachel stared into the emerald flames. The flames seemed to form numbers. 100. No, 99. Then 98. Rick averted his eyes from the sight of the flame and looked at Rachel. Her eyes were closed, and she was silently murmuring. But the only thing, Rick could hear was; "It's not real. It can't be real. It's not real. It can't be real."

His eyes met Bill's. His own realization was mirrored in the other boy's eyes.

Rachel was counting: The game had begun.


	4. Hide and seek

**First of all: Sorry for the long break. I just had to many things in my head lately. Second, if you are reading this: Thank you for keeping up that long. That's all from my side, enjoy the story (Man, I suck at these announcements)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom, just my Laptop.**

* * *

 _The game had begun. Me and Bill were sitting there, knowing it. It wasn't until the counter changed from the 90s to the 80s that we gained power over our bodies again. Bill was the first up on his feet. He just screamed: "Everyone for themselves!" and fled the room._

 ** _(chuckles) Quite a lovely guy, this Bill._**

 _Well, I wasn't any better. I basically darted out of the room right behind him. My goal was the stairs, that led to the first floor. There was a door to the basement, but in such an old house the stale air in the basement could be next to unbreathable. Bill hid somewhere in the countless other rooms of the house. So, I darted upstairs and-_

 ** _What is with Janette?_**

 _Well, we… kinda… have forgotten her. Everybody for themselves, I guess?_

 ** _*snort* Noble. Pretty noble of you._**

 _What?! There was a ghost after our butts. What would you do in such a situation? Huh?_

 ** _I, er… You're right. Forget what I said. Carry on, please._**

 _Thank you, Sir. As I said, I tried to hide upstairs. I found a bedroom. It was filled with dolls and all kind of girl's toys. Out of the fifties, I guess. Also, there were more spider webs than in a Spiderman movie. Everything was cobwebbed or covered in dust. The only light source was the occasional lightning from outside. I looked around and crouched under the bed, hoping that the cobwebbed bedframe would hide me enough. I waited, my heart hammering in my breast. I didn't know, when the ghost in Rachel would start searching for me. I just knew, that it would come eventually._

Janette's screams started the search, eventually. Rick shivered. He activated the timer at his wristwatch and waited for the seconds to pass. Slowly, all too slowly, a second passed after the next. One minute 58, one 57, one 56. Rick felt cold, although his whole body was covered in sweat. He looked up from his watch, looked around the room from his hideout. A lightning struck and illuminated the bedroom. Then he saw it: the dolls were looking at him. Their dead eyes stared right at his. He gulped. They knew it. They knew, he was here. Everybody could see him. He felt exposed. No, he was exposed.

"Calm down, man," he whispered to himself, "That's just your imagination."

Right. It was imagination. His fear tricking him. It wasn't real. He was safe.

The rattle at the door nearly made him shriek. Quickly, he covered his mouth. And listened.

*Pound* *Pound* *Pound*

His heartbeat was deafening loud. She would hear it. The ghost would hear it.

*Pound* *Pound* *Pound*

His heart was betraying him, giving his position away to everyone. He'd die because of it. If he just could tear it out of his breast; maybe, he'd survive.

*Pound*Pound*Pound*

The rattle on the door got stronger. The lock wouldn't open. Rick should have been relieved, but he was even more terrified: He hadn't locked the door.

*Pound*Pound*Pound*

*Rattle*Rattle*

*Pound-Pound-Pound*

*Rattle*Rattle*

The rattle at the doorknob seemed nearly desperate. Even more desperate was Rick. His heartbeat quickened even more and threatened to burst his ribcage.

*Poundpoundpound*

*Rattle* *Klick!*

His heart stopped. The door swung open in an instant, but for Rick it seemed like an eternity, in which his life played before his inner eyes. He was dead, he knew for sure.

 ** _Well, you're still alive, so I guess-_**

 _It was Bill, that entered. He had been on the search for a new hideout._

 ** _Did he tell you, why?_**

 _(shakes head) No. But I think, I might know the answer._

 ** _…_**

 _She might have seen him, you know?_

 ** _She?_**

 _Rachel. Or the thing possessing her. You know?_

 ** _This… Poindexter ghost?_**

 _Yes. She probably saw him, as she dragged Janette out._

 ** _How do you know?_**

 _…_

The door opened, and Bill entered, panting. He shut the door as quiet as possible. Slowly, he leaned against the door and sank onto the ground. Rick watched in silence, as Bill tried to calm his nerves. Bill looked up, and their eyes met.

"Shit," they both whispered in sync. Bill, because the room was already occupied. Rick, because Bill had seen him immediately. That meant, the ghost in Rachel would see him just as quick.

"Dude, bad hideout," Bill opined. "I figured," came the answer from under the bed. Stairs creaked. Steps came closer. Rick's eyes scanned the room for another hideout. He found one in the form of a closet big enough for a human to hide in it. He crawled from under the bed, but when he was able to stand up, Bill had made his way to the closet. He grinned. "First come, first served. Be a good pal, and lock the door, will ya?"

Bill shut the door before Rick's nose.

 ** _What did you do?_**

 _I locked the closet door and pocketed the key._

 ** _Really? But he stole your hideout._**

 _(shrugs) He is my friend. And he was as frightened as I was. Should I really argue with him, while there was a ghost on our heels? Besides, I couldn't simply let him get killed, could I?_

 ** _To be honest: I wouldn't have locked the door._**

 _*sigh* It didn't matter in the end._

Rick stood in the middle of the room. And again, he had the feeling of a dozen glass and porcelain eyes watching him, staring right in his face, in his back, everywhere. He shuddered. The creaking on the stairs stopped. Silence.

Then, a knocking at the door.

*Knock* *Knock* *Knock*

He looked around in the room: under the bed? No use. The closet: occupied.

In his desperation, he simply pressed himself against the wall next to the door, hoping that, when "Rachel" opened it, the door would hide him from vision.

Thus, he had perfect view on the door, when a grey, transparent hand passed through the wood. He watched in agony, as the hand groped for the door handle and turned it.

*Klick*

The door opened, and the hand retreated back into the wood. It was theatre, Rick knew. The ghost could have simply walked through the door. Or open it from outside. This was for everyone seeing it to know; it can't be stopped. Rick saw it, and he got the message.

As he had hoped, the open door covered him from view.

"Well," Rachel began with a voice so unlike her own, "Where are you hidden?"

Rick didn't dare to breath. The thunders outside roared.

"If I was about to hide, I'd go… for the bed." The floor creaked, as "Rachel" kneeled down to look under the possible hiding spot. A Mixture of relieve and dread washed over Rick, as the possessed girl inspected the spot, he had been hiding only seconds ago.

"Mhh, no one here. But, oh!", the voice said in mock surprise. "Look, what we have here! Footprints in the dust. Oh, oh, oh! Somebody messed up."

Lightning illuminated the room and the thunder was nearly deafening.

 _I guess, this was the moment, Bill and I knew that one of us was next. I hoped, begged, that it wasn't me._

 ** _Did it help?_**

"And these footprints lead to…"

Rick just heard his thumbing heart. Too loud! It was too loud! He'd die, he knew it.

*Knock* *Knock* *Knock*

"Hello-o? Anyone home?"

 _For the moment, it did. She… it… the thing decided to follow the footprints to the locker. I-  
I watched from behind the door, as Rachel stood there with a smile, knocking at the closet door. Then, out of her arms came other arms; grey arms. Glowing grey arms. I've never thought, grey could glow.  
Anyway. As those arms left her body, her actual arms went limp. Like a marionette, whose strings have been cut. The other arms: they- they were the ghost's true arms. They went through the wood. Just passed through it, as if it was nothing! The arms got transparent and jabbed through reality. I heard him screaming, you know? Bill, as those hands grabbed him in the dark. I- I- (panics)_

 ** _Easy, easy. You are still here. And Bill is in the next room. You're fine. You're safe._**

 _How can I be safe? How can I be safe, when this thing just passes through walls and doors? What can you do to protect me?! Nothing! I'm not safe! You're not safe! Nobody is! It just slips through the roof and kills us all!_

 ** _Please, Rick, calm down. I know, traumatic experiences aren't easy to manage. But it is vital in your process of healing, that you talk to me._**

 _(*sobbing*)_

 ** _You think, you could do that?_**

 _(nods) I… yeah, I- I can do. It's just, you know? It's surreal. When I saw, how Bill was pulled out through the wooden closet door. And it had been locked. I guess, no lock holds you, when you don't need to use the door at all?  
When he got pulled through the door, he was as transparent as the ghostly hands themselves. "No!", he screamed, "No!". The ghost dragged him on one arm through the room. Bill… He tried everything, to escape. He threw himself onto the floor to get a hold somewhere; He tried to grope the bedpost, but his fingers slipped right through it. Same when he tried to get a hold on the floor: his hands just went through the floor! I- the ghost left the room and closed the door behind it. The grey hand was still dragging Bill through the room and the door, eventually. When my cover was gone, Bill saw me and tried to grab my leg. He felt like an icy wind blowing through my leg. Then he was gone. I heard his screams, as the ghost dragged him downstairs.  
I know, I should have been worrying for my friends._

But all, I could think of, was: I'm safe. How wrong I was.

"I'm safe," Rick whispered, just for him to hear.

He sank against the wall and to the floor. "I'm safe."

The ghost wouldn't come into the same room twice, would it? There hadn't been any more hiding spots. His place behind the door: So cliché, it had been innovative. Rick looked at his watch. Only fourty seconds. Thirty-Nine. Thirty-eight.

He looked up.

Glass eyes looked back. Those dolls! They made him paranoid. Rick scoffed slightly. There was a real ghost after his head, but he got freaked out because of some stupid toys from half a decade ago? He'd had laughed about it, if he hadn't had the fear, the ghost could hear him.

But still, the blank stares of the dolls made him unnerving. As if they would stare at him, because they really saw him. But in reality, it was just the position, on which he was standing in the room.

Right?

He took a closer look at all the dolls. Every pair of eyes was staring at him: Little girls in fading pink dresses, looking grey in the dark and covered in webs, boys in sailor suits, a boy with round spectacles. They were all staring at him. All of them! Nowhere else. With each lightning, their faces got illuminated.

Thunder struck. With it came an awareness: It couldn't be. It was impossible, that they were looking at the spot next to the door. When he had been hiding under the bed, the dolls had been staring at him, too. They couldn't stare at the bed **and** the wall at once, could they? Same, when he was standing in the middle of the room and some had been staring into his back; he had sensed their stares.

That led only to one conclusion: they were, indeed, watching him. Following every single one of his movements. That also meant, the ghost had known, where Rick had been all the time. Cause, what were the odds of two ghost spooking here at the same time?

That also meant: He had to get out of this room as fast as possible. He turned to the doorknob and tried to open it. It didn't move. He tried again

*Rattle* *Rattle*

His heartbeat increased, yet again.

*Pound* *Pound* *Pound*

*Rattle*

He let the hand fall onto his side. No use; he was trapped. No escape. But the time was on his side. He checked the watch: eighteen seconds left. Not long, and he had won.

"One, two," creaked a voice behind him. Rick spun around. Who had been talking? "One, two."

Rick looked at the doll of the boy with spectacles, sitting on the bed next to some dolls in dresses. A white shirt and grey pants covered his body. The doll cracked a smile and the porcelain face cracked due to the strain on the material. The crack went right through the right eye.

"One, two. I'm coming for you," the doll sang.

"Three, four. I'm right at your door," answered the ghost behind Rick (and, well, the door of course).


	5. Happy (n)ever after

**Sorry for the long hiatus. I have no excuse, just laziness, I guess. ;(**

 **Disclaimer: Regarding property on Danny Phantom, nothing changed since the last chapter. All rights still belong to Nickelodeon.**

* * *

Invisible hands shot through the door, grabbed Rick by his hair and pulled him back through the wood. On the other side of the door, he fell onto the ground. It hurt.

Anxiously, he looked around. It was dark. The only window was at the far end of the floor, the only light source lightning, that struck right in this moment. In this fracture of a second, Rick could barely make out the face of the possessed Rachel. She smiled. Thunder struck. Rick's watch rang. The two minutes were over.

"Time's up! Time's up! See?", he shouted, desperation in his voice. The girl's face now was illuminated in the light of Rick's digital watch showing '0:00'. The girl nodded. "Yes," said the ghost with her mouth. "Now, time's up. Not, when I got you. That was still in time. I won, you die."

"NO!", Rick screamed and tried to crawl away. After he made some distance between him and the ghost, he got onto his feet and ran from whatever was in Rachel.

 _ **You ran?**_

 _Duh!_

 _ **You ran where to?**_

 _Away? From the ghost? You know, the ghost I've kept talking about ALL THE TIME?!_

 _ **Shh, easy boy. It's ok. I just wondered, if there was an escape in that direction, you ran.**_

… _No. just walls and closed doors to either side. They were all locked. Believe me, I've tried them all. The end of the corridor was a dead end. The only escape would have been the window._

Rick stared out of the window. Maybe, he could jump. It was the first floor after all. He wouldn't die at this height. Maybe he'd break himself a leg.

"Go ahead."

Rick spun around. Rachel had been right behind him, maybe two feet away. Now, they stood eye to eye. He backed away, until he felt the cold glass of the window in his back.

"Jump."

He took a look over his shoulder, outside. The storm howled in seemingly never ending fury. On second thought his previous idea of jumping **out** wasn't that well thought through.

"Don't expect to get far. You can't outrun me. For me, there are no walls, no trees, no wind nor rain. For me, there is no obstacle. You didn't manage to hide from me for two minutes. What makes you think, you could run from me only for one?"

Rick averted his gaze from the window and focused on the possessed girl. He raised his fists. Flight or Fight. No flight, then fight. He threw a punch at her face, but his arm was caught in midair by Rachel's hand. The grip was strong. Too strong for a girl… Who was he kidding? Too strong for any human being. It felt like a vise closing around his wrist. Rick tried to pull his arm away, but it didn't even move. Not. An. Inch. Sweat broke out on Ricks forehead.

"Really? You're trying to punch a ghost? You won't hit me. You'd just hit your little girlfriend here."

That brought Rick to stand still. That was still Rachel's body. He couldn't hurt Rachel. Never. But how could he escape then?

"It is your choice: Do you want to hurt her? The only one of you without any guild in this matter. The only one, who'll live. Do you want to hurt her for a futile attempt to escape?"

"N-no."

"Then, face the truth. You have lost. It is your fault. You will pay for your bullying!"

"I-isn't that a li-little hard? To k-kill somebody just becau-because of that?", Rick argue, frightened.

"I died because of a bully's 'harmless prank'. Did you know, that they never got him?"

"…"

"I thought so. Now, come. Your friends are waiting for you." The ghost pushed Rick towards the stairs. Rick put one shaking foot before the other. Desperately, he was looking for a way out. He sure didn't want to die in this dusty old house. But how could he survive? Running sure wouldn't work, hiding sure didn't work, fighting was out of the question. The only option was, to convince the ghost to let them be. But how?

 _ **And how did you convince the ghost?**_

 _Huh?_

 _ **You said, you tried to convince the ghost of letting you go. Now you are here. So, how did you do it?**_

 _I asked him, if he would leave us alone when we apologized to the bum we kicked out._

 _ **You mean Dani?**_

 _Yes, Dani._

 _ **And?**_

 _He said, that would do the trick. But the likelihood of her showing up and forgiving me_ _ **before**_ _my funeral would be low._

 _ **Funeral?**_

Dani lay wake in the burrow, when she heard the screams of a girl in the distance. In less than a second, she was at the surface and scanned the area with her eyes. Dark lay the forest before her. Of course, it would be. The wind carried the screams away and the thunder howled. Dani became intangible, so that the wind could blow and the rain could rain through her.

She listened. The screams were literally ripped apart by the strong winds, but she could discern a rough direction of the source. She started to run.

She didn't know, how long she was walking; the wind blew the time away with ease, and every now and then, the screams seemed to come from another angle. Was she running in circles? Why did the wind have to change direction so often, and why did it have to carry away the screams? Dani listened intently. The screams, that had… stopped! Dani fastened her steps. She had to get there at once. She wished, she could just teleport there. Danny could, probably. Question was: Where was there?

Screams got carried through the forest. Closer, now. And different. The first voice had been a girl. Now, there was a boy screaming for help.

Dani cursed. She had to hurry! Whatever it was, attacking them, was serious. She ignored branches and trees, stones and trunks of freshly fallen-over trees, she just ran through them. She had to get there in time. She was closer with every step. The wind couldn't rip the screams away anymore. Dani ran and ran and ran straight forward, until she realized; the howling winds and the aching trees were the only noises she could hear:

The screams had stopped.

A cold shiver ran down the half ghost's back. Now, she literally flew through the forest. Time was short. But no matter, how fast she was speeding, the forest seemed endless.

Dani nearly cried. Something happened. Something bad. Someone was dying, in the worst case. She couldn't let that happen.

She broke through the woods and found herself flying over the old road, the dark mansion before her. She landed and ran across the street and through the old fence. Her ghost sense went off.

She readied herself for a fight, but was left confused, when she reckoned the signature. Her sense went off by any ghosts, and living half of her life under them, had taught her, that every ghost felt different through her ghost sense. Now, she was sensing Poindexter. Dread filled her stomach.

Dani walked closer towards the dark building, that was nearly invisible in night and storm. Only when a lightning struck from the sky, Dani could discern details. Two of those details were two grave stones made of solid mud. The ground before them was dug over. The dread intensified.

A lightning struck to the ground somewhere in the distance. It illuminated the grave stones:

 **Janette Whatever  
I don't know – I don't care  
Die in agony**

 **,**

 **William WhyshouldIcare  
I don't know – I don't care  
Be forgotten**

"No," Dani whispered, but the word was overshadowed by the roar of thunder. Dani couldn't believe it: Poindexter would never hurt someone, would he?

Dani looked at the dug over mud. Yes, he would. And he already had.

The Halfa kneeled down and rolled up her right sleeve. She breathed in to ready herself and made her hand intangible. Her arm went through the ground, deeper and deeper, until it passed through the cover of a coffin. In it, she felt a living being, still breathing. That was good. The creature, most certainly human, winced at Dani's touch. Dani didn't hesitate and grabbed the body, turning its owner intangible as well. Then, she pulled the person upwards through their prison. And out of the ground.

It was a girl, but the light was too dim, to tell who she was. Dani released her from her grip and made her way to the other grave, to repeat the procedure. The girl just hugged herself, lay on the ground and sobbed.

Dani left her there and went over to the other grave. This time, a boy surfaced from his early grave.

"Don't hurt me! Please don't!", he "greeted" her, as she dragged him through the soil back to the air.

"I won't. I'm here to help."

"No, leave me!"

Dani let opened her grip on him and raised her hands. "Don't panic. Everything will be Ok."

The boy crouched away from her, panic in his eyes. Slowly, and steadily eying Dani in suspicion, he crouched over to the girl. Then, his tears broke through, too. Rain clutched the two teens and Dani realized, that she still wasn't tangible, as the rain passed through her and her clothes with no harm done. Quickly, she brought her body back in the "humanly normal" state and embraced the rain, reluctantly.

Now, Dani sat there. In the dark, in the howling wind and hammering rain, two sobbing teens, older than herself, next to her.

The door opened, and three pair of eyes watched at the shade in the door frame. Two of them were panicked, the third was fuming in anger. The open door finally brought light to the scene. Green light, but light.

It was a girl with jet black hair, that walked out of the door, dragging a raven-haired boy with her. The boy looked desperate but defeated. He didn't try to run, he didn't struggle. He had accepted his fate. A fate, Dani wasn't going to let happen.

The black-haired girl smiled, until she saw Dani.

"Dani?", Poindexter asked.

"Sidney," Dani replied dryly, her arms crossed and her eyes angry.

The boy next to the possessed girl opened his mouth unsure, then spoke up. "Listen girl, I-"

"Shut up!", Poindexter interrupted him. The boy winced but fell silent. Poindexter redirected his attention back to Dani. "It is nice to see you again. We can talk later inside, if you like. Now, if you excuse me: I have to bury some teens."

The boy in Poindexter's side winced but stood where he was. The girl screamed and cried, the other boy begged no.

"No, you don't, Sid," Dani shot back.

"What? Why not?"

"Because that would kill them."

"Well, that is the plan," Poindexter replied in an amused tone.

"Not as long as I have to say a word in that." Dani's stare drilled into the black-haired girl's face. If stares could kill…

The girl gulped. "You don't want to-? But they bullied you!"

"That's my business, not yours."

"But punishing bullies is my thing, Dani. I'm the Bully-punishing-ghost, remember?"

"That's right: You punish bullies. You do **not** kill children."

"But they bullied you!"

"And? You never tried to kill any bully. Never ever. So, why now?" Dani leaned forward, until there was just a finger-width air between the noses of the black-haired girls. The possessed shifted uncomfortable from one leg to the other.

"I- I can't say." The possessed girl looked aside.

"Then just go and leave those kids be."

"I-"

"NOW!"

"Fine!" the girl's body collapsed. The boy next to her barely managed to catch her, before she hit the ground. Slowly, she came back to conscious.

 _ **(scribbles something into notes) Ah, what wouldn't a man do for his love?**_

 _What?!_

 _ **Nothing.**_

"Rachel! Are you ok?", Rick asked. Rachel nodded slowly.

"What happened?", Rachel wanted to know.

Three pairs of eyes traveled to Dani, in expectation for explanation. Rachel followed her friends' gaze in confusion.

"What?" Dani and Rachel asked in sync.

"What happened here? You know it. Answer!", Rick asked, anger in his voice.

Dani looked at each one of them. The eyes of Rick were hostile, the boy on the ground was frightened. The girl next to him was equally terrified. "Are you…?", she whispered. "Are you… like him?"

Dani spun around. "What?!"

The girl shrieked. "Nothing!", she apologized and dropped her gaze to the ground.

"Hey! Answer my question, hobo? What just happened here?" Rick shouted. Since Poindexter was gone, that guy had become bolt. Now, he grabbed Dani at her jacket and lifted her off her feet.

"Ehm, Rick? That's n- Rick?", the other boy asked concerned. Rick's eyes stayed at Dani, who looked back just as angry herself.

"Enough!"

All eyes turned to Rachel. "I don't know, what happened before I woke up. I just know, the ghost of Poindexter came, because we were mean to that girl."

"*cough* Hobo *cough*"

"Rick!"

"Sorry."

Rachel turned to the whole group again. "We should go and leave her alone."

"But-", Rick replied.

"She-she is right, Rick," Bill interjected. "I- I mean, she saved our lives. Without her, Janette and I would be dead, and you were next."

Rick hesitated. "Let's just call it a night and leave, ok?", Bill tried to convince his friend.

Slowly and reluctantly, he let Dani back to the ground. "Fine… I guess."

Rain clutched in everyone's face and their clothes were wet down to the skin. "But in that storm, we cannot go home."

They looked towards the house. None of them was happy to be forced to stay there for the night. Rick looked towards Dani. He wasn't happy to stay one night in that house. Especially not with her around.

Dani rolled her eyes, shoved her way past the others and went inside. Rachel shrugged unsure and followed on foot. The three others just stayed in front of the door. Should they go inside? Rick remembered the room with the dolls and shivered. Had they really been Poindexter's work? Or had there been darker forces. In this moment, the building seemed like a living monster to him, ready to swallow them all and never let them go again.

"Are you coming, or what? If you stay out there, you'll die from hypothermia. That's pretty uncool, believe me.", Dani's voice asked from inside. And after a pause, she added a: "Sorry, too soon?"

"Shut up," Rick shot back.

Thunder roared deafening, and a decision was made.

 _I can tell you, that girl is a pain in the ass._

 _ **Tell me 'bout it.**_

 _What?_

 _ **Ugh, I mean. Tell me about your dislike for her. In how far is she "a pain in the ass"?**_

 _When we entered the house, that hobo was just sitting in front of the fireplace, her jacket on the ground in front of her to dry. She seemed, as if nothing had happened. As if her ghostly boyfriend didn't just tried to kill us!_

 _ **As if you didn't try to beat her to a pulp.**_

 _(looks to the ground) Yeah. (looks up) what kind of doctor are you?!_

 _ **Huh?**_

 _You are constantly pushing me down, you're constantly asking questions unrelated to my problem and you're pushing me into telling a story I'd like to forget!_

 _ **So, you wanna talk about your problem? Fine. Let's talk. You are here, because you had several blackouts in the past two weeks. Every time, you did something risky, dangerous, criminal or threatening before waking up and remembering nothing. My job is to find out, why.**_

 _Then, you should probably start with your job, shouldn't you?_

 _ **I already did. From what I've heard, those incidents happened, after you and your friends had this little sleepover at the old Wood Manor. Now, I asked you to describe to me everything that happened there, according to your memory. It could be, that something in this house happened, that traumatized you into suffering from these blackouts. You see? Your story is important, so that I can do my job, ok?**_

 _O-Ok. Sorry…_

 _ **(*sigh*) No harm done. Would you now carry on, please?**_

 _Ok…_

The tension in the old house could've been cut with a knife. Yet, it just came from three of its inhabitants. Dani acted, as if she was oblivious to it and Rachel couldn't quite get it. The other three were on edge. They knew, something was wrong with Dani.

"I don't know. Spending the night in this shed with **her**? Seems stupid to me," Rick commented at the actual situation. He paused to let his words sink in.

He, Janette and Bill sat at the table with the Ouija board. It was still burning in unnatural green flames and a green burning "0:00" was hovering over the wood. Nobody cared. After everything they had seen this night, a ghostly burning Ouija board was still pretty normal. Rachel was sitting by the fire and talking to Dani. From time to time, the other three heard fragments of their conversation. The vagabond told stories of South Africa, Spain, Brazil and Alaska. The girl claimed to have visited each of these countries. Either she was lying, or there was definitely something unnatural about her. Rick would bet his money for option B.

"I say, we kick her out," he continued.

"What?!", Bill shouted out in disbelieve. And got the attention of everyone in the room, including a confused Rachel and a wary Dani.

"Er, sorry," he apologized and duck his head in order to disappear between Janette and Rick. Rachel turned back to the fire and started to talk again. Dani's eyes lingered on the group for a few seconds, then she turned around, too.

"You can't be serious!", Bill whispered alarmed. Janette nodded in consent.

"So, you two want to tell me, that you can sleep while **she** is here?!", Rick whispered back. Bill and Janette shook their heads no but remained adverse towards Rick's idea. "No, we won't. We will stay wide awake, until we are home and save. But the last time we literally kicked out, there was a revengeful ghost who tried to kill us!", Bill reminded Rick in a hushed, yet aggressive voice.

"Damn right," Dani replied from the fireplace and shrieked the little group at the table. "And don't think I can't hear you."

Rick hissed a silent curse.

"What did I just say?"

Rick's face went red in anger and embarrassment. Bill snorted and tried not to laugh. Janette just looked at both boys in disbelieve. "How about, we get serious again?", she whispered to them. They nodded. Bill smiled slightly; slowly, Janette got back on track. "So, point one is to find out, if that ghost is actually gone. Second-" She stopped mid-sentence and paled, as if she had seen a ghost.

"What is it?" asked Bill concerned. Janette stared at the Ouija board, terror written on her face. Rick looked at the board. Nearly all flames had gotten extinguished. Except for a few, who created a flaming circle around the

 _/No/_

"What?!", Rick shouted in disbelieve.

Dani and Rachel jumped up from the fireplace, confused of the fuss behind them, and went over to the table, to find out what was wrong. Rachel screamed as she saw, what her three friends had seen. Dani just looked at the wooden board, then at the teens. "A witch board? Really? Is there anything to make it more cliché?"

"We thought, it was a fun idea… Janette started."

Dani blinked. "You… ," she started, "You brought a witch board into an old mansion, in which a psycho killed his family? A mansion, which is said to be haunted ever since. And you play Ouija in the middle of the night? And then you blame **me** , that there is a ghost after your asses?!"

"Ugh, yes?", Bill shrugged. "But technically, it was your fault. The ghost made it pretty clear, that he did it because of you, so…"

"Not helping, Bill," Rick whispered.

"And not the matter at the moment," Dani interjected. "More importantly for you right now is; what does Sidney still want from you?"

"Wh-what? B-but you told him to leave us alone!", Janette screamed and pointed her finger at Dani.

"And he will," Dani defended herself. "At least, as long I'm around…"

In the house, everything went still. The only noise was the wind and rain outside. Even the fire in the fireplace refused to crack. Dani shifted uncomfortable. "Er, how about you and Sidney sort it out and part in peace?"

"What?! It isn't that simple!", Rick interjected. The green flames on the board moved. The ring around the /No/ broke up and the fire slid like a snake over the board and from time to time circled around a single letter, before it slid to the next one.

 _/F/_

 _/I/_

 _/N/_

 _/E/_

 _/B/_

 _/Y/_

 _/M/_

 _/E/_

"Fine by me," read Janette.

"See? He is reasonable," opined Dani optimistic. The faces of the teenagers looked less than convinced. "I'll let you sort it out. I have clothes to dry." Dani turned and went back to the fireplace.

"So, what do you want?", she heard Rick asked. Dani looked over her shoulder and saw that the attention of everyone was on the board. So, she used the time to phase the rain out of her clothes and hair. Better not to get a cold.

It took a minute, until one of the others started to speak again. "Remember the deal?", Bill read out confused. "Which deal?"

"I think, I know," Rick replied, then eyed Dani. "The ghost told me, I could live, if I just apologized."

"To him?"

"To her." Rick nodded in Dani's direction.

"Huh. Think, that counts for all of us?"

 _ **And then you apologized to her?**_

 _Yes. After that, the green flames died off and Janette threw the board into the fire of the chimney. We watched it burn. Then we stayed up, until the flames died off completely. It was dark without the fireplace, so everyone searched for a corner, lay down and pretended to sleep. I actually fell asleep for real, I fear. With the first rays of the morning sun, we evaded that cursed house and went straight home._

 _ **I see.**_

 _It's scary. When we went up, there weren't any signs of it ever happened._

 _ **What do you mean? What ever happen?**_

 _The whole thing. The hobo, the ghost, the burning fire, the burial. Everything, just gone. Janette and Bill didn't have dirt in their clothes, nor were any clothes wet from the rain. The fireplace looked like it hadn't been used in years. The hobo and all of her stuff were gone. Even the graves on the lawn were nowhere to be seen. There was only tall grass, as everywhere else. It was, like we all just had a bad dream. I guess, this is the real horror: having a traumatic experience without knowing, whether it was real or not. I could have been just a bad dream. Just, that we all had the same. (shivers)_

 _ **Did you check the bedroom on first floor?**_

 _What?! Hell, no! I wanted to get out of this curse house asap! Why would I go back in that damn doll room?_

 _ **You said, it was covered in dust.**_

 _Er, yes?_

 _ **Well, if it wasn't a dream, you probably left some footprints there. If it was a dream, that room may not even exist.**_

 _You-you're right! But, the thing is, I won't leave here soon, right?_

 _ **Seems like that. We are not a hotel. And your, er, "condeition" needs constant observation to prevent self-harm and harm of others in one of your states of trance.**_

 _Will you check it out for me? Please? I don't think, I could live in peace without knowing, whether it really happened or not._

 _ **Of course. It will help you with your healing process to confront this question with facts. It will be the first thin in the morning I'll do. (looks at wrist watch) Oh, look. Our time is up. (rises from seat) I see you tomorrow (opens door).**_

 _Doctor?_

 _ **(turns) Yes, Rick?**_

 _I'm save here, right? I mean: Poindexter won't get me here. The spook is over, right?_

 _ **(smiles) Yes, it's over.**_

 _ **(leaves room and closes door)**_

 _ **Soon.**_


	6. A secret meant to be kept

**This time, I'm a little bit faster. Therefore, this chapter is a little bit shorter than the last. On this occasion, I'd like to remind everyone that this story is rated T, not K nor K(+). And I'd like to thank everyone who read my little story so far. And especially those, who left a fav, a follow and/or a review. Especially DannyPhantomPhandom.  
**

 **To the unknown Guest who left a review: I have not the slightest clue, what are you are talking about. Not. The. Slightest.**

 **Disclaimer: I own my Laptop. That's it.**

* * *

 **Afternoon-2:05 pm**

Doctor Martin is about to leave the room, when he hears a movement from his patient. He stops and waits for the question about to come.

„I'm save here, right? I mean: Poindexter won't get me here. The spook is over, right?", Rick asks, light tremor in his voice.

The doctor turns around to the patient in bed. He smiles warm and reassuring at the kid. " Yes, it's over."

Then, he steps backwards out of the room, never losing eye-contact, until the door shuts before him. His smile, now directed at the door, has changed into a much colder and sinister one. "Soon," he whispers, then turns and walks down the corridor, while piping a joyful melody. He looks at his clip board. The notes, he had taken from his conversations with all four teens, told the same story. Rachel claims to have been possessed by a ghost and couldn't remember anything else. She has described Dani as a friendly young girl with lots of travel experience. Bill Janette and Rick have told nearly the same story, just from different perspectives and slight differences in details, that don't matter in the issue. All three have the same suspicion: Dani is a ghost.

"That's just three little lady birds to stop from singing," Dr. Martin speaks to himself, his voice hushed. His smile grows bigger, as he unclips the notes from the board. "Good, I hate to hurt children."

He laughs. Then, he collapses. The board and notes flying out of his hands. The pages soar through the air. the board hits the ground, and they are gone.

...

The sound of a board clattering to the ground, wakes Josef Martin from his blackout. Surprised from being in midair falling, he stretches out his arm in front of him and manages to land on all four, instead of just hitting the ground with his face. It still hurts, and a hiss of pain escapes his mouth.

For a moment, he just keeps kneeling on the ground, confusion written all over his face. "Where am I?"

He hears footsteps. They sound like they were coming down from a corridor behind him. His confusion intensifies. "Am I not home?"

The footsteps stop, maybe ten feet behind him. "Dr. Martin? What are you doing on the ground?"

This voice. He knows it. It belongs to a nurse at his workplace.

"I'd like to know that too, Miss, er…"

"Sanchez, Sir," the nurse reminds him, while coming closer. She helps him to get back to his feet. He looks closely at her, and a wisp of remembrance travels over his mimic. "And it is Mrs. Sanchez, Dr. Martin", she corrects him.

"Right"

"Have you already talked to the new patients?"

"Er, no."

"Really? Haven't you told us, you'd like to speak to them? And didn't I see you entering Miss Miller's room this morning?"

"This morning? How late is it?"

Mrs. Sanchez looks confused, then she smiled. "Forgot the time over work, Sir?"

He smiles , covering his nervousness. "Yes. Something like this," he lies.

"Quarter past two… Oh, my! You missed fifteen minutes of your break!"

"That's ok, I'll have to go now. Bye"

He turns towards restroom and starts walking, quickly. In his head, everything spins around in whirls of confusion and desorientation.

Mrs. Sanchez bows down and picks up a clip board on the ground. "Wait, Dr.! Your clip board!"

He ignores her and keeps going. She looks at the board, just to find no pages on it. "Then he really didn't look after the patients, huh." Mrs. Sanchez shrugs and gets back to work.

In the restroom, Josef fills a mug with coffee from the can, and sits down at a chair. He takes sip. "Cold," he mutters. Then, he looks around. He's alone. "Good." Josef fishes a flask out of a pocket and fills a little of its content into his cold coffee. He takes a sip. "Now, calm down, old man. Recapitulate. You were eating breakfast at home. Then you wake up at the floor of the institute in the afternoon. Question is: What happened between those two moments. Think!"

He ruffles his greying hair, but nothing. He can't remember anything. The last nine hours are just… gone. "What the hell did I do?", he asks in despair. He's at edge. Does he lose his mind right now? Just like his patients? Or is it something else? Dementia? He's closer to seventy than to sixty, after all. Dementia sounds reasonable, even if equally terrifying. Josef's best friend had gotten Dementia three years ago. By now, he only remembers Josef, because they have been friends ever since their sand box days. But good ol' Kwint has forgotten his lovely wife, his children and grandchildren. His grandchildren! No, better Josef was insane than dement. He takes another sip. Slowly, the alcohol starts to calm his inner storm and his head clears.

A familiar head pokes in the room. "Hi, Joe. You alright?"

"Ah, yes. Thanks, Lucas. Just… have a blank spot in my memory. Do you think, I get senile?"

"Blank spot, huh? Abducted by aliens, like Mr. Mulder in B-03 102?", Lucas jokes and sits down at the coffee table across from the older Doctor. The old Psychiatrist smiles faintly. "Hopefully not. I can't remember what I did between this morning's breakfast and the time I stumbled over my feet, five minutes ago. Now I fear that I get dementia… or crazy."

Dr. Lucas Harris strokes his (nonexistent) beard. "Well, if that's the case, we have a few comfortable rooms to spare."

Josef snorts, while Lucas laughs. "But seriously, don't you think, it could be because of your Irish coffees during break?"

"There's no whiskey in it!", Josef objects quite hostile.

"Oh! Scotch?"

"… Yeah," Josef admits between his teeth.

"Scottish coffee, then?"

"Probably?"

Lucas sighed. His older colleague really drank too much. He should at least not do it during work. "So, could it be that your morning coffee was Scottish, too? Drunk people often get blackouts and memory loss, also a very bad equilibrioception, as I recall. Hence the stumbling on the floor."

"Don't make me laugh. Do I look drunk to you?", Josef asks accusingly. A slight tone of hurt can be heard in his voice.

"You tell me."

"Pah!"

"Joe, you have a drinking problem. You know that, right?"

"Shut up."

"Did you consider therapy?"

Josef laughs. "What? Therapy? Here? Ridiculous."

"Not at all. You'd have to call me Dr. Harris then, by the way," Lucas jokes and receives an eyeroll from his older workmate and friend.

Josef rises from his chair, his bones aching in protest. "Be as it is, break is over. Back to business."

"Joe, think about it!", Lucas shouts after him, as he flees down the corridor.

"Don't you have patients to lecture? The cut lecturing me," Josef replies. "I have no drinking problem," he murmurs. "I just have to find out, what happened this morning. Maybe I should call in a sick day."

Lucas slumps against the doorframe of the restroom. His old friend wasn't what he used to be since this Kwint-guy got dementia. It got worse in the last few month. For both. And for Lucas, too.

...

 **Night-2:05 am**

Rick wakes with the first rays of the sun. This place isn't his favorite, yet he has slept well this night. He feels fresh and relaxed. Unusual for those last few days.

"Maybe, Mom and Dad were right. Maybe therapy is good for me. I didn't even have a nightmare this time. I **do** get better," he realizes in relieve. He looks at the clock on the wall. 8 o'clock. Soon, there would be breakfast. He waits. The knob at the door turns.

A nurse enters with a wagon. On it are plates with sandwiches. "Good morning," she greats him friendly. Then she unstraps his left arm and watches him eat his breakfast and drink some water. After he has finished, he gets restrained again. "Are those really necessary?", he asks.

"Yes, my dear. One of your friends tried to stab himself in trance. Since your symptoms have been similar, it is safe to assume, that those straps are important to prevent you from self-harm. Sorry, dear."

"Ok," he mutters. It's humiliating. He feels like an animal in a cage. But as long as it is to keep him safe, until he's normal again… "I'll manage," he dicides.

"What, my dear?"

"Ah, nothing. Just- speaking to myself. Thank you for the breakfast, Miss… ?"

"Sanchez, my dear. Mrs. Sanchez. If you don't need something else, I'll be going to the next patient."

"Uhm, could you look for Dr. Martin for me, please?"

"Sure thing. Bye."

"Bye." The door closes and Rick is alone again. He looks out of the window and loses himself in the beauty of the morning light shining through green leaves. Something seems strange, but he can't really point his finger at it.

The door opens, and he turns his head towards it. Dr. Martin enters. "Hello Rick, how are you feeling today?"

"Actually good, Sir. I think, our conversation yesterday helped a lot more, than I thought it would. Huh, in the end, talking about it really seamed to help."

"Glad to hear that, boy. Have you remembered anything else, we should talk about?"

"N-no… Have- have you looked in the old manor in my town? You know, the bedroom?"

"Which bedroom?", Dr. Martin asks.

"You know, which! The one I told you about! The one you promised-"

"Oh, yes. THAT bedroom. Sure."

"And?"

"Come here, Rick. I'll show you."

Reluctantly, Rick crawls out of his bed and makes his way towards Dr. Martin. Halfway towards the doctor, he pauses. "Something wrong?", Dr. Martin asks sympathetic. Rick frowns, then shake his head and steps at Dr. Martin's side. "No, nothing. I guess, I'm just still tired. It's early, after all."

"Yes. Yes, it is. God, I hate autumn. Leaves redden and fall, leaving the trees as empty skeletons. It's always rainy. And every day is darker than the day before."

Rick looks back to the window. Although it was already eight, the world outside of his room was still sheeted with darkness.

"You're right. It's depressing sometimes. But the gold and red of the leaves at day make up for it."

"True."

"So, what about the room. Were there footprints in it? Tell me," Rick demands.

"Alright, alright. I've been to the house and looked at the first floor. I found the room, you described. It was all as you told me. The footprints are there."

"Really?", Rick asks excited. "It was real? All real?"

"You seem… happy about it?", the doc asks confused and tilts his head questioningly.

"Yes!", Rick gleams, "I'm not crazy! All that ghost stuff is real! That means, I'm totally fine. What a relieve."

"Glad to hear that. But you now should work on leaving it behind. Such a trauma shouldn't compromise your young life."

"Can't wait to tell in class, that I've truly had an encounter with ghosts!"

"In class?", Dr. Martin asks.

"Yes, of course!"

"And if they don't believe you?", Dr. Martin follows up on his last question.

"Then I'll show them the room. You didn't lie to me, did you?", Rick asks with a challenging glare. Dr. Martin chuckles and raises his hands in surrender. "Of course not, see?"

He opens the door. Rick goes around the doc and into the room, fascinated. "Yes. This is the room. There, the bed with the dolls. And there! The closet Bill had been hiding…"

"What is it?", Dr. Martin asks, still standing in the floor of the old mansion.

"Something is missing…"

"What is missing?", Dr. Martin asks.

"I- don't know. Not yet. Something… the doll!" Rick turns towards the bed again. Indeed, the strange nerd-doll is missing. But there is something else, which is strange. "Those footsteps are… way to big. Those are not mine. And they do a circle." Rick follows the steps in the dust with his eyes. They start at the door, lead through the room, once, and end at…

Rick lifts his gaze, confused. Dr. Martin smiles comforting down at the boy.

"I- I don't understand," Rick admits. Then a fist connects with his jaw and sends him flying backwards. He falls onto the soft bed.

Iron shackles close around his wrists and press him closer onto the cold metal of the dissection table. White light blinds him. "NO!", he screams.

The lamp is pushed to the side and Rick sees Dr. Martin in his white lab coat standing next to the table, smiling down at him. This time, less friendly.

"I don't understand! Let me go!", Rick screams.

"I'm glad, that you are feeling better, Rick, really. But there are some secrets in this world, that are meant to be kept. You know one of those. And you'll keep it."

"W- which? I don't know anything! Let me go, please! I won't tell anyone! I promise. I don't know, what you mean, but I won't say a god damn word! Please!" Rick feels tears stinging in his eyes, running down his cheeks, and snot coming out of his nose. But his begging has no effect. It only seems to amuse the crazy doc.

"Oh, haha. I'll make sure you won't say a God. Damn. Word. That's for sure." The smile of the doctor is now a visage of sadistic joy.

"What?!", Rick panics. He feels a pool of warmth spreading out in his pant and realizes, that he has just peed himself.

Dr. Martin fishes a scalpel out of his lab coat and pulls the lamp back to its former position. Bright light blinds Rick. "Now open your mouth. It'll just hurt more, if you struggle," the doctor orders, the last part in a singing voice.

"NO-ough!"

Rick feels, how fingers are stuck in his mouth. They are pulling at his tongue. He tastes the latex of the gloves. The pull at his tongue intensifies.

He bites down. His teeth easily cut through the flabby meat of Dr. Martin's fingers. the doctor hisses in pain. Warm liquid fills Rick's mouth.

He groans in pain and opens his eyes. White turns black. The hard metal shackles turn to leather. The cold dissection table turns to a soft bed. The pain keeps on.

He raised up in the bed as much as the shackles would allow him to. Desperately, he looks around in his hospital room. The only light source is the moon on the night sky outside. The few rays of light wrap the room in twilight. There is no Dr. Martin. No scalpel. No dissection table.

There are no bitten off fingers in his mouth. Just liquid and pain. Something is missing. His gaze falls onto the formerly white blanket. There is something dark and flabby on it, the area around it soaked black.

"Keep the secret. Don't tell anybody, or I'll take the rest," a dark voice warns from nowhere. It sounds amused.

Rick opens his mouth to a wordless, gurgling scream. Darkness escapes his mouth and flows down his white shirt and blanket in a stream, that wouldn't want to cease.

...

 **Night- 2:06 am**

Bill gazes out of his window and at the winter world outside. White, fresh fallen snow shimmers in the early sun's rays. He can't wait for Christmas.

"Hello, Bill. How are you feeling today?", Dr. Martin asks as he enters the hospital room. Bill turns his gaze away from the window and directs his attention at the man. He smiles warmly. Bill smiles back.

"Pretty good. You were right, talking about what happened really helped with the nightmares."

"Ah, good to hear. About the graves you told me about. In the lawn. I've found traces of them."

Bill perks up. "R-really? When I looked for them, they seemed as if they have never been there."

"Oh, they were just refilled. Come. I'll show you."

Bill hops out of his bed "Glady," and runs towards Dr. Martin.

The doctor opens the door…

...

 **Night- 2:07 am**

Janette looks out of the window of her hospitalroom and stares at the Pacific. Somehow, the view of the ocean always calms her. When she had always planned to go to sea when done with school. Now, she's just happy to have a room with view to the nearby ocean.

She hers a rumble behind her and turns to the door. The door opens and Dr. Martin enters.

"Hello, Janette," he greets her, "how are you feeling today?"

...

 **Night- 2:08 am**

Rachel hasn't slept well, when she is woken by loud noises outside of her room. She looks around. It's still dark. She looks at the clock, strained. In the twilight, that is closer to pitch black than anything else, she can make out the hands of the clock. Barely. Around ten past two. What could go on at a time like this. Rachel's blood freezes in her veins. Something has happened. A part of her fears to know, what it was.

The door opens, and Rachel reflexively closes her eyes to protect them from the sudden light from the floor. The light switch clicks. "Are you ok, Miss?" a female voice asks. Still blinded, Rachel nods.

"What is going on?", she asks, when the noises of screams, shouts and running feet wouldn't cease. Slowly, her eyes adjust to the light and she opens her eyes. In door stands a nurse, panting. Her white coat is background for a painting of little red flower heads around a red sea. Rachel blinks confused. Blood, she realizes, this is blood.

"What happened?!", Rachel asks anxious.

"Your friends… they-" the nurse swallows down a lump that has formed in her throat. "I am here to look after you and make sure, it doesn't happen to you."

"What? What happened to them? Rick… no. What happened? Tell me!", Rachel screams in despair.

"Oh, honey," the nurse says pitying, although she's still in a shocked state, herself. "They bit off their tongues."


End file.
